Black City (A BLACK WINGS NOVEL)

by Christina Henry

  The concourse got darker and darker as the afternoon passed. I wondered whether safety lights would automatically switch on at a certain time, or whether the convention center remained unlit when not in use. Out of curiosity I flicked the switch on the wall and realized the point was moot. The electricity didn’t seem to be working.

  Was the whole city out, or just this part of it? It was bad enough to contemplate vampires running loose in the daytime. The thought of a lightless night crawling with monsters was too horrible to think about.

  The day passed, and night fell, and Nathaniel slept on. I was half dozing on my feet, my shoulder leaning against the wall, when I saw something moving outside on the concourse. It was too dark and too far away for me to see clearly, but I could see enough to tell that it didn’t move like any human.

  I glanced back at Nathaniel. My first instinct was to investigate and possibly destroy without disturbing him. But if there was more than one creature or it was a protracted engagement, then we might end up separated. Nathaniel could die, sleeping and defenseless, while I was off playing Sherlock.

  So I backed slowly away from the door, praying my movement would not be detected by whatever was out there. I knelt at Nathaniel’s side and put my mouth close to his ear.

  “Nathaniel,” I whispered.

  His eyes opened immediately. “You have let me sleep too long. There is something near.”

  “Yes,” I said quietly.

  He sat up with much more vigor than he’d had before his nap and picked up his sword. In the darkness I noticed a phenomenon I had observed once before. Nathaniel was surrounded by a faint aura, a glow that I did not have because I was not a full-blood angel. He moved toward the door without making a sound.

  “Wait,” I said. “Can you hide your halo? Otherwise whatever is out there will see you as easily as they would a firefly.”

  Nathaniel paused for a moment. “It is likely that whatever is out there will be able to scent us, but you are correct. We should not advertise our presence. Do you feel that your power has returned to its former strength?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve probably got enough for a couple of nightfire blasts, but that’s about it. I need sleep and a lot more food before I’ll be back to normal.”

  Nathaniel nodded as if he’d expected this. “I will veil both of us; then we can investigate.”

  I felt the spell drop over me, and a moment later Nathaniel winked out of sight. The glass door to the aid station opened, and I eased out. The door closed behind me.

  I had no idea where Nathaniel was because of the veil, and the darkness was almost total. It belatedly occurred to me that this was a very stupid idea. I’d been worried about getting separated, and now we were.

  I slid as quietly as I could along the floor. Nathaniel could move as soundlessly as air when he chose, but I am not the ninja type. I gripped my sword in front of me, the blade raised high, ready to slash at anything that came near.

  I had only a second to swing when the monster came out of the darkness. There was a skittering noise, and then the gaping maw of the vampire appeared, grainy and blurred in the heavy darkness. I didn’t stop to think. I just let muscle memory do its job and take the vampire’s head off as it had so many times before.

  The whole episode lasted less than a minute, but my nerves were strung so tight that I stood there panting for a moment. Nathaniel spoke from behind me.

  “There are more in the building. I can hear them investigating.”

  “How many? Can you tell?” I whispered.

  “It seems like an exploratory party. Perhaps twenty. If they find anything of note, they will report back to the horde.”

  “Do you think they know this one is dead?” I asked.

  “Vampires generally cannot sense the death of one of their own unless there is a blood bond, such as that between a maker and his child. But we must assume that all of these vampires consumed Azazel’s serum, and we do not know what kind of effect that may have.”

  “Let’s just try to get out of here as quickly as we can,” I said. “And stay near me. I don’t want to lose you.”

  The aid station wasn’t far from the stairs at the entryway, so after a few moments of groping our way through the darkness we were back at the top of the escalators. I looked down the stairs.

  It was full dark, but we didn’t need light to detect the mass of vampires on the street outside. Through the glass doors and high windows, we could see the horde moving almost as one giant animal, a tremendous shape writing in the darkness. We backed away from the stairs.

  “I don’t think we want to go that way,” I said.

  “Where are the other exits?” Nathaniel asked.

  “There’s another pedestrian walkway going over to the lakeside center,” I said. “Or we can try to get into the Metra tunnel and follow the tracks for a while, but the tracks terminate at Randolph and we’d be right in the epicenter of the horde. Plus, the tunnel goes away pretty quickly and we’d be out in the open.”

  “It does not seem wise to put ourselves in a position where we might be trapped in a tunnel,” Nathaniel said.

  “We have to take the same chance either way. If we go into the pedestrian bridge, we’ll have several feet where we have no way to escape if there are vamps ahead and behind. If we go into the Metra tunnel, we’ll be underground until it comes out of McCormick Place.”

  “And then we will be exposed.”

  I didn’t need to see Nathaniel’s face to know that he was brooding. I didn’t particularly like our choices—or our chances—either.

  I had no wings. Nathaniel’s wing was broken. My magic was burned out for the time being, and we had no way to call for help. Most annoyingly, I could sense that Lucifer was somewhere out of touch again. The snake tattoo on my right palm had been very quiet for some time now. I wondered, as always, where Lucifer went on these occasions. Puck had said that the Morningstar was going somewhere he should not. What secrets of the universe were closed off to a being as powerful as Lucifer?

  “It seems wisest to move toward the lake,” Nathaniel said finally, his quiet voice breaking my reverie. “The vampires appear to be avoiding the shoreline.”

  “Why?” I said. “Is there any truth to that old chestnut about vampires and running water?”

  “Obviously not, since they crossed the bridge over the Chicago River with ease,” he said. “But they do not like the lake, it seems. I observed that none of them came close to it as we flew over the city.”

  Nathaniel’s hand found mine in the darkness, and I let him hold it. I didn’t want to get separated.

  The convention center seemed so large and empty as we crossed through it, a relic from a time that had passed and might never return. How could the world go on as it had been before everyone knew that vampires existed? How long would it be before other things-that-went-bump-in-the-night decided not to hide their existence anymore?

  We paused as we reached the pedestrian tunnel that crossed to the lakeside center. The passage yawned into the darkness. Nathaniel squeezed my hand.

  “I cannot sense the vampires any longer,” he said. “They may have rejoined the horde.”

  He dropped the veil. It was a waste of energy if we didn’t need it.

  “I can’t believe the death of one of their own would go unnoticed,” I said as we stepped into the tunnel.

  The bridge crossed over Lake Shore Drive and was lined with windows. The flurry of activity that we had seen that morning had long since ended. Cars sat lined up bumper to bumper. Their occupants had either been eaten by the vampires or fled successfully on foot.

  My palms were sweaty. The air inside the tunnel was stale and hot despite the cold outside. I was afraid, and it was a terrible shock to realize this. I’d faced many enemies, and been many times outnumbered. I’d defeated plenty of powerful foes, much to their shock and mine.

  But I didn’t have my wings anymore, and my magic was quiet. I had a child to protect. I’d never
felt more vulnerable. The dark had become a place of lurking nightmares, and I wasn’t sure I could overcome them.

  We reached the lakeside center without incident. But my dread only intensified. My luck was not that good. I’d never been able to hide from the monster in the closet. My monster always came out to try to eat my head.

  “You must calm yourself,” Nathaniel said softly. “I can feel your blood pulsing through your hand. If I can detect it, then the vampires will be able to as well. They are bred to detect weakness, to feed upon distress.”

  “I know,” I said, and my voice didn’t sound like my own. I could hear the strain and the panic. I was panicking. I never panicked.

  “You are not yourself,” Nathaniel said, and scooped me up like a baby in his arms.

  “You c-c-can’t,” I said. “How will you fight if you’re holding me?”

  “Shh,” Nathaniel said. “I do not sense any threat nearby, but you will draw one to us if you continue to behave thus.”

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whispered. I could feel my heartstone inside my chest, pulsing hot, but my skin was cold.

  “I suspect that you are exhausted and, if you will forgive me for saying so, in the grip of your hormones,” he said. He moved swiftly through the dark, descending to street level.

  “You think this is happening because I’m pregnant? Is it normal for pregnant women to have panic attacks?”

  “Is it normal for a part-human to carry the child of a creature that was half-nephilim? Is it normal for a pregnant woman to run all over the city fighting demons and vampires and then spend hours watching over me when she ought to be sleeping?” He sounded angry with himself for spending so much time resting.

  We emerged from the lakeside center by a small walkway that connected to the lakefront path. There was a bike rack with a rusty bike frame attached to it just in front of the doors. Both of the bike’s wheels were missing.

  To the north of us was the museum campus. I could see the dome of the Adler Planetarium on its jetty protruding into the lake, and the distinctive bowl of the Soldier Field. The Field Museum and the Shedd Aquarium lay beyond, and farther past was the beautiful skyline of my city.

  To the right the lake crashed against the shore, plates of ice shifting and breaking. The wind whipped frosted caps of waves in the moonlight, and more stars than I’d ever been able to view above Chicago.

  The lights were out as far as the eye could see. The city had been swallowed by the night. In the distance I could hear the occasional scream, the staccato pop of gunfire. Overlaying that noise was a steady, high-pitched hum, like the buzz of cicadas—the sound of the vampire horde moving through the city.

  Nathaniel paused. I could tell that he was assessing the possibility of a vampire attack. My panic had eased once we got outside, and with its diminishment came embarrassment.

  “You can put me down now,” I said.

  Nathaniel shifted his gaze to my face. My cheeks heated under his assessing look. After a minute he placed me on my feet. He was wearing only his black dress pants and boots, and the sheath for his sword was slung over his shoulder. The cold did not seem to disturb him in the least.

  “We must try to escape the horde,” Nathaniel said apologetically. “I know you are tired.”

  I shook my head. “You’re right. We have to get home somehow and meet up with the others. We’re not going to get there unless we walk.”

  We fell into step beside each other on the path. I figured we were ten or eleven miles from my house. At the pace I was trudging it would take at least four hours to get home. Nathaniel was on high alert, but we walked for several minutes without encountering anyone or anything.

  The vampires did seem to be avoiding the lake. I wondered why. As far as I knew, nothing more dangerous than sturgeon lived there. As far as I knew.

  I looked at the dark surface of the lake, which suddenly seemed like it had some unknown menace lurking in its depths. I shook my head. I had enough menace in my life without imagining more. If there was a monster in the lake, then it could stay there, and so much the better if it worked as an anti-vampire repellant.

  We passed under the overpass next to the Shedd Aquarium. The path curved around the building before turning north again. Water broke against the rocks below the safety wall. Nathaniel paused beneath the overpass.

  “There is someone on the path ahead,” he whispered, drawing his sword.

  I couldn’t make out the person—or creature. It must be keeping to the shadows.

  “Is it human?” I said very softly.

  “No,” he replied. “Stay back.”

  The moon shifted behind the clouds.

  One second Nathaniel was beside me, and the next he was gone. I didn’t even see him move.

  The clouds drifted past the moon. I saw Nathaniel silhouetted in the lunar light. He stood over an unmoving form, his sword at his side. The tip of the blade faced the ground. There was a dark stain sliding down the metallic surface. He turned his head to look over his shoulder at me, and his expression was full of savage glee. He did not look like himself. He looked like…someone. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Someone I had seen recently, had spoken to…

  “You may approach,” he said, and the smoky tendrils of memory slipped away before I could grasp them.

  I came to Nathaniel’s side and looked down at the creature he’d beheaded. It was a sort of humanoid/snake combo.

  “That thing looks like Amarantha and Violet after Lucifer cursed them,” I said.

  “It is one of Focalor’s foot soldiers,” Nathaniel said.

  “Focalor, huh?” I said, nudging the body with the toe of my boot. “I’d almost forgotten about him with everything else going on. Do you think he’s behind the vampire attacks?”

  “He was one of Azazel’s conspirators in the uprising against Lucifer. But I am not certain that Azazel would have trusted Focalor with his plans for the serum and the vampires. I always sensed that Azazel was not entirely forthcoming with Focalor.”

  “Then why are Focalor’s flunkies hanging around Chicago?” I asked.

  Nathaniel shrugged. “Focalor knows how to take advantage of a bad situation. And he is not the only one.”

  “The pix demons,” I said.

  Nathaniel nodded. “And others like them. There will be many creatures that see this city as a fruit ripe for the plucking. Soon it will become a battleground.”

  In my mind’s eye I saw my fair city decimated by violence, the humans dead or gone, demons tearing one another to shreds in the streets as they fought to give their master a jewel for their crowns.

  If that happened, I, too, would be dead, and my child with me, for none of those masters could possibly allow me to live. I would always be a threat, especially with the shadow of Lucifer standing behind me.

  Lucifer would drop the magical equivalent of a nuclear bomb on the city if I was dead, and that would be the end of any war. The Chicago I knew would cease to exist either way.

  “Every time I think I’ve thought through all the implications, I realize how stupid I’ve been,” I said tiredly.

  “You are not stupid,” Nathaniel said.

  “I must be. Why else would I think I could stop this?” I jabbed my hand in the direction of the skyline. “I’ve got enemies galore but hardly any allies to speak of. I put myself at a disadvantage by giving up my Agent’s powers so I could make a point to Sokolov.”

  “You are still the granddaughter of Lucifer, as you yourself told Sokolov.”

  “As far as I can tell, being the granddaughter of Lucifer has brought me nothing but grief,” I said, my lips pressed together as I stared off in the distance. “And, Nathaniel…he’s backing me into a cage. I can feel it. Slowly, inexorably. I twist and I turn, I growl and I claw, but Lucifer is the lion tamer and he holds the whip. Soon I’ll realize I’ve gone too far backward and the cage door will close.”

  Nathaniel said nothing. Nathaniel, whatever he felt for me
, would never go against Lucifer voluntarily. He had done so once at Azazel’s behest, but I was sure that he would not put his existence on the line for me to squirm away from the Morningstar. He seemed unable to do so himself.

  “What did Lucifer do to you?” I asked, giving voice to the question I’d wondered earlier.

  He was silent for a long time. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to answer me.

  “Lord Lucifer excels at letting you think that your choices are your own when they are actually his,” Nathaniel said finally.

  “I know,” I said, thinking of my marriage, the relationship that was forbidden until Lucifer had decided otherwise. At the time I’d thought it was a reward. Once Gabriel died and I’d realized I was pregnant, I discovered that Lucifer had manipulated us so that he would get the grandchild he wanted. “What did you want so badly that Lucifer gave it to you?”

  “Power,” Nathaniel said. “I wanted to be respected, to have the status I felt that I deserved as the son of a Grigori. It is only now that I see that I desired power because Lucifer taught me to do so, because he manipulated me into wanting it. To betraying…”

  He trailed off, ruminating on the past.

  “Betraying who?” I asked quietly.

  It seemed like he was drowning in his memories, and that he was having a hard time swimming back to the surface.

  “My mother,” he said.

  “Your mother? What did she ever do to Lucifer?” I asked.

  “She chose my father,” Nathaniel said simply. “Lucifer wanted her, and when Lucifer desires something, he gets it. My mother, Cassiel, would not have him. She already loved Zerachiel. Lucifer seemed to withdraw from the field with grace. When I was born, he took a special interest in me, favoring me over the other children of the Grigori. He was like a beloved uncle, always ready with a game or a prize. He told me I was special, that I would sit beside his throne one day. Cassiel and Zerachiel took Lucifer’s interest to mean that they were forgiven. It was not so.

  “When I was old enough, he promised me that if I would help him with some small tasks here and there, I could come to his court as an apprentice to Azazel, his own right hand. It was heady stuff for a young man. Azazel held much power in Lucifer’s realm. As his apprentice I would be ranked above many of the fallen who were much older and more experienced than I.